


Before the Sun Rises

by cathema



Series: Early/Late [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Early/Late series finale, I'm back in the fandom, M/M, Post-Time Skip, i missed these two so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23984563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathema/pseuds/cathema
Summary: Of course, it had to end at some point. But Tsukishima finds it difficult to swallow that, while volleyball had brought him and Kuroo together, it had become the one thing that broke them apart. Post-time skip, and the finale of the Early/Late series.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Series: Early/Late [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/430048
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	Before the Sun Rises

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with my first fic in three years. Just wanted to put an end to the Early/Late series, and the post-time skip events from the manga pushed me to write something new.
> 
> I'm not particularly proud of this, but it made me happy to have written it anyway. After all, we all could use a little smut, fluff, and cheesiness in our lives.

_\- 0 -_

Of course, it had to end at some point. Kuroo had moved on to college where volleyball practices took up much more of his time, and Tsukishima likewise had to focus on honing his skills, now that all eyes nationwide were on Karasuno.

It wasn’t like it happened on a spur of the moment. The two saw it coming months before it even did. Kuroo was getting harder to reach through phone week after week, and Tsukishima regressed into his snarky, secretive, withdrawn self.

And when you’re in a long-distance relationship, it all crumbles the minute communication disappears.

Conversations started spanning a week to finish. One would forget to greet the other a “good morning.” The “I love you’s” said became too few and far in between. They knew they were in a sinking ship and were waiting for each other to jump.

No one would have guessed that Kuroo jumped first.

“Are you happy still?” He said. That’s when Tsukishima knew.

“There’s no right way of answering that.”

“I guess we never really did make it.”

Tsukishima closed his eyes. He said nothing.

“I wish we had tried harder.”

A sigh. “I’m sorry,” Tsukishima said.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Tsukishima wondered if he should wish him luck in his upcoming match, if he should promise that he’ll continue to cheer him on, if he should swear that he’ll make him proud and be the best middle blocker he’ll ever see on the court.

But he finds it difficult to swallow that, while volleyball had brought them together, it had become the one thing that broke them apart.

“Thank you for loving me,” Tsukishima said instead. If he had listened more closely, he would have heard Kuroo break.

“You will always have my heart, Kei,” Kuroo whispered, with all the love he had left to give.

“Goodbye, Tetsurou.”

“Goodbye.”

It felt like an easy breakup at first. Tsukishima hardly felt different in the days that passed after their call. He’d go to class, practice with his team, then go back home to sleep. He had a routine, and removing Kuroo from that routine was effortless.

And yet he couldn’t understand why, in the middle of Coach Ukai replaying a video of last year’s nationals match against Nekoma and seeing Kuroo’s face onscreen again, after so long, he broke down and cried in the realization of what he just lost.

It was then that Karasuno found out about his relationship with Kuroo. Eventually, Nekoma did as well. And although nothing changed, Tsukishima had to carry the weird burden of having been the reason behind Coach Ukai’s embarrassing policy for the members not to have secret and forbidden relationships with opposing teams.

Karasuno decided not to mention anything about it to Tsukishima as well. No one dared to, not even Kageyama who usually had a complete disregard over Tsukishima’s, or anyone's, feelings. It was a silent agreement among the team to let Tsukishima deal with it on his own.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take him too long. And by the time he reached his third year in high school, Tsukishima had completely forgotten about Kuroo.

_\- I -_

“Osamu-san’s Onigiri is really good, huh?”

Tsukishima glanced at Yamaguchi who was stuffing a huge rice ball inside his mouth. It was the year 2017 and they are seated on the bleachers, about to witness a legendary match between the once fearful duo, Hinata and Kageyama.

“Don’t eat too much in one go, Yamaguchi,” Yachi chided.

“I should have gotten more.”

“We could always get some after the match.”

Tsukishima drowned out the conversation between his two former teammates and surveyed the stadium. He could spot Daichi and the others from a few bleachers away, some loyal fans who’ve followed Karasuno ever since their sudden breakthrough to Nationals five years ago, and former opponents who’ve long moved on to become spectators of a sport they once loved.

The match between the Schweiden Adlers and the MSBY Black Jackals began with an amazing start, and the whole stadium roared in deep fascination. Tsukishima watched Bokuto, still hyper and flashy as ever, and tried to ignore the pang in his chest. He’d be caught dead before he would ever admit to anyone that he missed the loud-mouthed Fukurodani captain, because losing Kuroo all those years ago meant losing friendships with people he actually liked—Bokuto and Akaashi included.

For a while, the pain doesn’t go away, and Tsukishima decided to excuse himself to head to the toilet.

“Really? You might miss a lot!” Yamaguchi whined.

Tsukishima answered with a shrug and made his way through the thick crowd, heaving a sigh once he reached an empty corridor.

He looked around and followed the signs that led to the toilet. Along the way, he passed by school students, a trio of women gushing over a handsome player, and many other strangers he could care less about. At one point, he passed by a man with dirt blond hair who looked oddly familiar, but the man zipped by before Tsukishima could take a proper look.

“Jesus, the match is starting,” the man yelled to whoever he was yelling to. “I hope Akaashi got us the onigiri.”

Tsukishima slowed to a stop and turned around, trying to place who he was.

“Bastard really left me behind,” a voice murmured from a close distance.

Tsukishima turned around once again.

Once, Hinata spoke about fate one evening as he, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, and Yachi went home from practice. They were third years then, guiding their own team to fly high towards their dream.

“I think it’s fate that I ended up in Karasuno,” he said, “I wouldn’t exchange it for any other team in the world.”

“Didn’t you apply here yourself?” Tsukishima retorted. “That’s not fate, you simpleton.”

“It’s still fate that I met you all!” Hinata pouted. “Don’t you agree with me, Yamaguchi? Yachi?”

“Hinata’s kind of right,” Yamaguchi said, shooting an apologetic look at Tsukishima. “I mean, I’m pretty lucky that I ended up where I am now.”

“Same here,” Yachi agreed.

“It’s still a fucking cheesy thing to say,” Kageyama murmured.

“But you agree, right?” Hinata nudged Kageyama’s side and earned a noncommittal shrug in response.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “There’s no such thing as fate. Life happens based on your own actions.”

“There’s truth to that but...” Yachi smiled. “It’s also nice to know that even without you doing anything, the thing you never knew you wanted comes to you and changes your life forever.”

Funny, how it only made sense to Tsukishima now, at this very moment, as he stared into Kuroo’s eyes at an empty hallway, with nothing but the sound of echoing cheers and his heart splitting to two.

“Tsukki,” Kuroo said, breathlessly. “Wow.”

Tsukishima swallowed hard. Kuroo still had his messy black hairdo, his half-lidded eyes, his annoying smirk. The same Kuroo.

He wanted to laugh at this cruel twist of fate. “What are the odds.”

“Bokuto wouldn’t shut up over text unless I agreed to watch his game.”

“You were with...?” Tsukishima pointed behind him, referring to the man who had just left.

“Konoha, you know, from Fukurodani before?”

Tsukishima hardly remembered.

“And you’re with Yamaguchi?”

“Yes. A lot of Karasuno members are here too.”

“I see.”

Tsukishima wrestled with his urge to cringe at how awkward the flow of the conversation went. He’s praying that the gods would smite him now if it would mean he could escape this situation. He rubbed his thumbs together, stress and anxiety building up, wishing that Kuroo could just fucking say something to end this long minute of silence.

“Were you headed to the toilet?” Kuroo finally said.

“Yes. Right.”

“Right. I’ll see you later then.”

“Sure.”

A pause. Then, the two moved forward at the same time, giving each other a wide berth as they passed each other to head to opposing directions. But Tsukishima could have sworn that he felt Kuroo’s eyes watching him as he continued walking.

“Where’ve you been?” Yamaguchi asked as soon as Tsukishima sat back down.

Tsukishima considered telling Yamaguchi what just happened 10 minutes ago, but he didn’t want to endure yet another conversation about getting closure, about his feelings, about what he planned to do right now.

And so he said, “I got lost.”

But Yamaguchi’s attention was already directed back to the rally to even notice Tsukishima’s blatant lie.

Thank goodness for that, Tsukishima thought, as he started to watch the match once again. But every now and then, he would look up to survey the crowd, wondering where Kuroo was and if he was also looking up, wondering where he was too.

At the end of the game, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi met up with the rest of their Karasuno seniors who all decided to head to the nearest barbecue joint and celebrate their reunion.

Tsukishima considered excusing himself, being someone who hated loud company, but thought better than to turn down the invitation.

And so the rest of the night goes by in a blur—everyone wolfing down plates and plates of meat, mugs of beer being filled and refilled, and the restaurant quaking with their loud, boisterous laughter.

But Tsukishima had a limit, and the moment they stumbled out of the restaurant and suggested to continue to a karaoke spot, Tsukishima put his foot down.

“I need to go home and study,” he said.

“Oh, come on, Tsukki,” Suga drawled out, his face bright red.

“It was nice meeting you all again,” he said, with finality.

He turned on his heel and walked away even before any of them got to convince him to stay.

The walk home wasn’t that far but it was still a pain to withstand the cold on a full stomach and smelling like smoke and liquor. But it was better than being someplace he truly didn’t want to be, which was among drunk men singing along badly to horrible songs.

Then, he thought about where he would have rather been for the past hours. Cozied up at home, reading a book, or watching a new Netflix movie he hadn’t yet.

He remembered what his mom told him once: “You’re not going to find someone just holing yourself up in your room, Kei.” He repressed his urge to scoff. It wasn’t because he had no interest in finding someone, but because he had been holing himself up in his room for years and he still managed to “find someone,” without actually meaning to.

He found someone or, rather, someone found him and he has never been the same since. Tsukishima wondered if he was to find someone again, someone who would tolerate him enough, share the same taste in music, and surprise him with strawberry yogurt in little plastic cups on a random evening. But it would mean finding someone who wasn’t Kuroo and he couldn’t picture himself in that situation yet. Not now. Not even four years later.

Yachi had asked him once: “Do you still love him?” He had cringed and said, “What a stupid question.” Because maybe he still was. But what right did he have?

“Stupid,” he seethed under his breath. “Stupid, stupid.”

He was too absorbed by his own self-loathing that he almost didn’t notice his phone ringing. He dug his hand in his pocket to retrieve it and answered even before he could realize who it was.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Tsukishima stopped dead on his tracks.

“Kuroo?”

“Did I wake you?”

Tsukishima felt his mouth run dry. “No, I was just on my way home.”

“Ah.” A beat. “Want to meet up?”

How annoying it is for Kuroo to just suggest it so openly, without hesitation, as if they didn’t cease all contact for the past four years. But Tsukishima answered, in spite of himself. “Where are you?”

“In front of this grocery store called Seica, watching a lady puke her guts out in a plastic bag.”

Tsukishima grimaced. “I didn’t need to know that information.”

“Might help. Follow the sound of regret-filled retching.”

“Right.”

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

Tsukishima dropped the call and closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply, counted to ten, and let the tension escape him along with his breath.

Then, he began to walk.

Tsukishima had once pictured what it would be like to see Kuroo again. To see his disheveled hair and toothy grin. Would his heart leap or would it shatter? Would he smile and walk away, or would he fall into his arms again? Tsukishima never thought about Kuroo again, in the years that have passed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, if the timing had been right, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did.

But as he stared at Kuroo from a distance, all he could feel was uncertainty.

Kuroo, unlike Tsukishima, didn’t change at all. His hair was still standing at all these different directions, his eyes still looked as if he was scrutinizing every detail he could see, and the corner of his mouth was still turned upwards as if perpetually amused.

It felt as if nothing had changed.

Kuroo turned his head and his face lit up as he saw Tsukishima walk towards him. “Yo.”

“What are you doing out in the cold so late?”

Kuroo shrugged. “I could ask you the same question. Though I can smell the barbecue on you.”

Tsukishima pursed his lips. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t call me in the middle of the night after four years just for idle chit chat outside a grocery.”

“Well, some things never change, do they?” Kuroo laughed. “You’re always trying to cut to the chase.”

Tsukishima raised his brows as Kuroo lifted a small plastic bag towards him. “For you,” Kuroo said.

Tentatively, Tsukishima accepted the bag and peeked inside. His breath hitched a little when he saw a plastic cup of strawberry yogurt.

“Why did you get me this?” He asked.

“No reason. But yogurt’s good after a barbeque night, right?”

Tsukishima eyed him. Kuroo smiled at him with that familiar smugness that made Tsukishima’s stomach churn in annoyance—yes, annoyance, because he refused to be anything else but that.

He sighed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“I agree,” Kuroo replied, but not to what Tsukishima was implying. Instead, Kuroo dug inside another plastic bag he had on his arm and pulled out his own plastic cup of chocolate pudding. “Can’t wait ‘til the morning.”

Tsukishima watched Kuroo in disbelief as he ripped open the lid and started spooning out its contents. He huffed and pulled out his strawberry yogurt too. “Four years, and you still baffle me.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Only you would take that as a compliment.”

“Salty as always, Tsukki.”

“There’s a good reason for it, isn’t there?”

At that moment, Kuroo shot him a blank expression. He held that stare and Tsukishima felt like he was going to fold, and so he turned his attention towards his shuffling feet, his wringing hands still cradling the half-empty yogurt cup, and the wisps of cold air coming out of his mouth.

Then, Kuroo said, “Not much of a nightlife here, is there?”

Tsukishima thought about it. “There’s a 24-hour arcade down the street. That’s just about it.”

“Arcade?” Kuroo beamed. “Can we go?”

“What are you, 12?”

“Please, Tsukki? I’ll die of boredom if I have to go back to my hotel at this hour.”

“You should be asleep by this hour.”

In one go, Kuroo dunked the contents of his chocolate pudding into his mouth, made one big gulp, and wiped his lips. “That’s why I got sugar. Now, lead the way.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “You’re so annoying. I should have just gone home.”

Kuroo flashed him a smirk. “And yet, you aren’t.”

Kuroo got him there, as much as Tsukishima hated to admit. And so, with a huff, he finished his yogurt, threw away the plastics in the nearby garbage can (which truly smelled like freshly puked alcohol), and walked towards the direction of the entertainment strip of the neighborhood.

Lights flashed brightly along the street and, everywhere they turned, drunk salarymen, smoking youths, and women in costume loitered about, looking for something to pass the time in the dead of night.

Tsukishima gave this part of town a wide berth. And yet there he was, walking side by side with his ex-lover, headed towards an arcade he had never been to since he was in middle school. All the while, he wondered about the “whys.” Why did he choose to be here? Why did Kuroo refuse to talk? Why is he still going along with Kuroo’s impulsiveness when it’s so easy to just say no?

His thoughts were interrupted by Kuroo yelling “Claw game!” near his ear, and before he could react, Kuroo was already jostling towards a set of claw machines by the side of the road. The game Kuroo approached, in particular, contained enormous cat plushies.

Tsukishima watched as Kuroo fished for change in his coin purse, and stifled a laugh when Kuroo failed to pick up the toy.

“Just a warm-up,” Kuroo grinned as he hopped to the next claw game. It took Kuroo 4 more tries at different games before Tsukishima groaned, “You suck at this.”

“I’d like to see you try, then!”

With a roll of his eyes, Tsukishima looked around and settled on a smaller contraption with Gudetama keychain prizes. Naturally, he won it with ease.

Kuroo grumbled, “There’s no excitement with these small ones. That’s why I go for the larger prizes.”

“You find ‘excitement’ over blowing your money unnecessarily?” Tsukishima smirked. “It’s what I’d expect from a Tokyo boy.”

Kuroo clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch!”

Tsukishima almost let out a laugh hadn't he caught himself. He wasn't going to let himself fall into this trap where he'll pretend he wasn't in complete distress over being with his ex as if they were two friends catching up on lost time. He clenched his fist and walked briskly to the arcade farther up ahead, Kuroo following behind.

When they got there, tons of lights and sounds filled their senses and Kuroo looked around excitedly. “This one,” he said, zeroing in on a zombie shooting game. He took one gun and handed Tsukishima the other, then inserted his coins into the machine.

They managed to get through the game until its halfway point when Tsukishima lost his last life and Kuroo died shortly after.

They jumped from game to game, neither really speaking but enjoying each other’s company. Through it all, Tsukishima made so many attempts to excuse himself and head home to sleep but Kuroo's infectious energy took away his fatigue completely. More than that, he was actually having fun—killing monsters with plastic guns, winning races, hitting home runs in ice hockey—that he almost forgot he and Kuroo had just met for the first time in years. They laughed, high-fived, and took photos.

It was...all wrong.

At that moment of realization, Tsukishima stopped in his tracks, watching Kuroo slip past a group of people crowding around a dance game. This is all wrong, he thought. He was spending the evening with Kuroo like they were old friends who didn’t just spend the last four years with heartache.

It was all wrong, how happy he was feeling to be around his ex-lover, how each touch and high-five lingered on his skin, how his heart raced hearing Kuroo call his name.

But he remembered how that same voice had broken his heart and his affection quickly turned to bitterness. Without hesitation, he turned on his heel and exited the arcade.

He stood outside in the cold for a long time. He couldn’t just leave; if he did, then all his questions will go unanswered. He was confused—as he should be—not knowing if he wanted to push Kuroo away or hold him close. It angered him that Kuroo wouldn’t just tell him his intentions. It scared him that he’s holding onto a shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, Kuroo wanted him back.

“Tsukki?”

Tsukishima closed his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Kuroo asked with unmistakable concern.

 _Don’t_ , Tsukishima thought. _Don’t speak as if you want me close to you._ It’s all wrong, it’s all wrong. He knew it was. His mind whirled in different directions, rationalizing every word, every touch, every smile they’ve exchanged tonight.

And then he understood perfectly.

It wasn’t that Kuroo had no intention to sit down and talk. He was preventing it on purpose, not because he’s unwilling to admit his remorse, but because he wanted this one night—possibly the last night they will ever have together in this lifetime—to remember his first great love and cherish the memory forever.

The signs were all there and Tsukishima hadn’t noticed. Kuroo was begging him to pretend, just this once, to be what they used to be. _Just this once_.

And so he does.

Tsukishima looked at Kuroo with a quirked eyebrow. “There are too many people in there. Can we go someplace else?”

Kuroo eyed him, then shrugged. “Alright. I’m actually getting kind of hungry. Is there a pub nearby with good food?”

“There’s a McDonald’s down the road.”

Kuroo grinned. “I’m down for a burger.”

Tsukishima flashed a strained smile and led the way.

There wasn’t any line at the McDonald’s down the road but the tables were filled with people sleeping, cramming weekend work, or scarfing down food in a drunken stupor. Tsukishima, overwhelmed, opted to wait outside while Kuroo bought his meal.

When Kuroo returned with a small cup of coffee and a cheeseburger, Tsukishima brought him to an empty playground a few blocks away. It was small, with a couple of swing sets, a seesaw, a jungle gym, and a roundabout, but no benches. So they walked over to the swings and took a seat each.

It was 4:19.

“I haven’t mentioned that I like how your hair looks now,” Kuroo said as he unwrapped his burger. “You look way less scary.”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes. “And you still can’t get rid of that bed hair.”

Pouting, Kuroo touched the top of his head to smoothen down the wild mess (a failed attempt).

“So, how have you been?” He finally asked as he took a bite of his burger.

Tsukishima hummed at the question. “I’ve been playing for the Sendai Frogs for a while. I’m starting work next year in the Sendai City Museum.”

“Oh? That sounds great.” Kuroo pushed the ground slightly and rocked himself forwards and back. “So it’s just the fearsome duo who are still playing, then.”

Tsukishima nodded. “I heard Kenma-san started his own company.”

“Among other things. Couldn’t believe it at first either. But have you played his games?”

“A few that Hinata lent me. They’re great.”

“Of course they are.” Kuroo chuckled. “And how’s Yamaguchi-kun?”

“He’s starting work next year too.” Then, cautiously, Tsukishima asked, “What have you been doing?”

“I’ve been helping manage a fitness club in Shibuya.” Kuroo smiled softly. “I’ve long left volleyball behind too.”

It didn’t surprise Tsukishima that Kuroo stopped playing after graduating college. He never particularly stood out in his team nor was he as passionate and as dedicated as the other star players. The two may be vastly different from one another, but this is what they had in common—a fervent love for playing volleyball for the fun and comfort it brought to their lives. It was never meant to last forever.

“But watching today’s game made me reminisce on old times,” Kuroo admitted. “The exhilarating feeling of being on the court, having so many people watch you, and hearing the cheers when the ball drops on the other side of the net. There’s nothing quite like it.”

_That’s why we couldn’t last._

Kuroo looked at Tsukishima, and for a moment, the blond wondered if he had said his thought out loud. But Kuroo said, “Enjoy the sport while it lasts, Tsukki. Don’t let your juniors outshine you just yet.”

“What a pain,” Tsukishima grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah, youth,” Kuroo sighed wistfully. “I miss those days.” He stared at the empty wrapper on his hands.

For a while, they sat in silence. Tsukishima glanced at his watch. 4:47.

“Almost sunrise, huh?” Kuroo said.

“There’s a nice spot somewhere here that gives a great view.”

“Should we?”

Tsukishima nodded. “If you wanted to.”

“Hm.”

There was a sudden change in Kuroo’s expression. The smile he had on throughout the night disappeared and his eyes glazed as if deep in thought. “And after that...?” he said quietly.

Tsukishima's hands twitched. “After?”

“This night has felt like a dream,” Kuroo mused. “I never expected you’d be here with me. It feels as though nothing had changed. Do you feel it too?”

Tsukishima’s head was reeling.

“I... thought we were just pretending.”

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The sound of plates hitting the linoleum floor. The sound of a baseball bat smashing a car window.

If one could only hear it, would the sound of a heart breaking be just as loud?

Tsukishima stared, pained, at Kuroo’s fallen face. He waited for him to say something—anything—just to put an end to both of their miseries. This surreal, movie-perfect dream has finally come to a crashing halt.

“It’s getting late,” Kuroo mumbled, rising from his seat. “I’ll take you home.”

Not knowing what to do or say, Tsukishima nodded wordlessly and stood.

_\- II -_

They walked separately in silence, Tsukishima falling behind, feeling the distance between them grow in each step. Nothing but the rustling of the trees and the chirps of the birds beckoning the sun to finally put an end to the long night. It was now 5:09.

When they reached a bridge that went over a canal, Kuroo stopped. Tsukishima stopped, too, and waited for whatever Kuroo was going to say.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you tonight, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened. Kuroo leaned against the railing, hands in his pockets. “All I did, all these years, was blame myself,” Kuroo continued. “Maybe if I tried harder, if I wasn’t so afraid...”

“Afraid?”

“Yes. I was so afraid that if we kept trying, then we’d end up hating each other so much that—“ Kuroo bit his lip and let out a sigh. “—that I wouldn’t get another chance to make it right.”

So _that’s_ what Kuroo had been doing all along. Tsukishima cursed himself for not having seen it that way.

He then joined Kuroo in leaning against the railing. “Why couldn’t we have talked from the start? Did you really have to drag us both around to all these places in the middle of the night?”

Kuroo laughed in spite of himself. “Because, whatever happens at the end of this, I wanted to have the memory of this night to keep with me forever.”

“You weren’t considering how I’d feel about it.”

“I know. I know that now. I’m sorry, I’m fucking stupid.”

“You are.” Tsukishima glanced at him briefly. “But I fell in love with you anyway.”

The sounds of shops opening from a distance cut through the tense silence.

“Do you hate me for what I’ve done?”

Tsukishima sighed. “For the record, I never blamed you, Kuroo. We both made the decision to split up. It was for the best.”

Kuroo stared into the distance. “I just want you to know that you’ve never left my mind since.”

It hurt. Tsukishima didn’t understand why it hurt. He should be happy that, in some way, Kuroo still harbored feelings for him. He should be happy that, somehow, they have a chance to make it right. But it hurt him; it hurt because he’s confused about whether to take that risk to love again or run away from the possibility of ruining this delicate situation where he and Kuroo were _just okay_ — where they’re holding on tightly in desperation to have each other in their lives, but being so out of reach from one another in fear of the uncertainty.

Tsukishima didn’t know what to do. Soon, Kuroo will leave, and he’ll once again pick up the pieces of his broken heart—alone, in silence, as it has always been.

“Do you still love him?” Yachi’s voice rang in his head. What a stupid question. Because he definitely, desperately still was.

“Don’t take me home, Kuroo,” Tsukishima croaked.

Kuroo frowned. “What?”

“I don’t...want to go home yet.” He was shaking, and he clasped his hands together to still himself.

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there anywhere you want to go?”

“Your hotel.”

It was now 5:42. The black sky was slowly fading to a deep blue and Kuroo’s wide eyes glistened in understanding in the faint glow of dawn.

Kuroo’s hotel was a 5-minute walk from where they stood. They walked past the entrance, through the lobby, and into the elevator in silence, not sparing each other even a mere glance.

When they reached his room on the seventh floor, Kuroo took off his shoes in one fluid motion, undressed of his thick coat, and collapsed on the bed with a heavy sigh. Tsukishima, meanwhile, took his time—one shoe after another, his coat and sweater neatly hung on the rack by the door, his belt placed on the bar table.

He then lied beside Kuroo, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Neither moved.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima remembered the first time he had sex with Kuroo. Kuroo traveled all the way from Tokyo that evening without a second thought just to tell Tsukishima, face to face, that he wanted to take a break.

The memory always made Tsukishima laugh; why go through all that trouble to break his heart? If he didn’t cry his eyes out that night, would they have ended then and there? But the more Tsukishima thought about it, the more he realized that it had never been about Kuroo coming so close to surrendering to his defeat.

It was Kuroo, after going to all the lengths to show his love, stopping at the very end to wait for Tsukishima to meet him there, no matter how long it took.

And it was all happening again, here, at this exact moment.

So, in the space between their tired bodies, Tsukishima reached out and clasped Kuroo’s warm hand reassuringly.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered with all the longing he harbored in his heart.

“Kei,” Kuroo choked.

“I want you. Just fucking kiss me already.”

In an instant, Kuroo lurched forward to capture Tsukishima’s lips with his, wrapping the blond’s body with his arms in a tight, possessive embrace. Tsukishima buried his fingers in Kuroo’s soft black hair, gasping for breath as Kuroo’s tongue danced hotly inside his mouth.

Their clothes were taken off and thrown on the floor, piece by piece, as Kuroo devoured every inch of Tsukishima’s exposed skin—his ear lobes, his neck, his chest, his abdomen.

Memories of Tsukishima’s first experience in bed with Kuroo burned out of his mind as his boxers were yanked off in complete urgency, exposing his stiff member. Kuroo, then, was cautious, hesitant, affectionate. Now, he was desperate and hungry.

The way he sucked Tsukishima’s cock felt like pure bliss. “Fuck, Kuroo,” the younger boy gasped as Kuroo slid the entire length against the back of his throat over and over again.

It took a lot of strength for Tsukishima to not cum in Kuroo’s mouth then and there. He writhed and moaned, grabbing a fistful of Kuroo’s hair in ecstasy. “Oh god,” he gasped as Kuroo started sucking his scrotum.

After a while, Kuroo freed Tsukishima’s throbbing dick from his orifice and reached underneath his pillow to retrieve a bottle of lubricant.

He squeezed the bottle over his hand and rubbed the liquid all over his hard shaft before hoisting Tsukishima’s thighs upward to lubricate his entrance.

Deep in Tsukishima’s mind, he wondered how Kuroo was now able to do all this with confidence. How many others has he done it with after they broke up? How many lips has he kissed, hands have he held, and bodies have he pinned down on his mattress just to forget the taste of Tsukishima on his tongue?

“How many,” Tsukishima whispered shakily, “how many after me?”

“What?” Kuroo blinked as if coming back to his senses.

“You seem like you’ve done this before. I just want to know.”

The way Kuroo hesitated made Tsukishima wince.

“Sorry. Nevermind.”

“Do you really think that low of me?” Kuroo clicked his tongue to mask the embarrassment he was feeling. “I just learned all this from watching x-rated videos. Why would you assume I’d want to do this with other people?”

Before Tsukishima could even respond, Kuroo slipped a finger inside his hole, making him gasp and moan from the sensation. “You should really stop thinking too much, Kei,” Kuroo said with a sly grin. “Or I’ll make you stop thinking.”

Kuroo lifted Tsukishima’s legs to place a pillow behind his back. Then, with a growl, Kuroo slowly thrust his cock inside his lover, watching Tsukishima’s eyes widen at the blissful pressure and tingling ache as he went deeper, inch by inch.

“Good?” Kuroo asked.

“Yes. Yes. _Fuck_.”

“Look at me, Kei.”

Kuroo pressed his forehead against Tsukishima’s, eyes staring deeply into each other’s, as he thrust in increasing speed and force.

Tsukishima wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders as he let out loud moans of pleasure. It was too fast, too good, and he could feel, with every jagged breath and squeeze of his thighs, how long Kuroo had desired for this moment.

“You’re so tight,” Kuroo groaned, eyes glazed with passion. He never, not once, looked away from Tsukishima’s face, as if he was afraid he would disappear from his grasp if he did. He pressed Tsukishima’s waist against the bed, changing his angle slightly to get much deeper. It was all too much for Tsukishima to bear.

“I’m coming,” he gasped, just as hot semen shot out of his cock and pooled around his stomach.

Kuroo slowed to a stop, letting Tsukishima convulse beneath him until his torso was filled with the hot, sticky mess.

He took in the sight and chuckled. “Hold on.”

He pulled his shaft out and lept off the bed to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. He came back with it freshly damp from the sink and dutifully wiped the gunk off Tsukishima’s body.

“That’s a lot, huh?”

“Shut up. Let me do it.”

“Too late, all done.”

When it was all wiped clean, Kuroo spared no second to lubricate his cock once more. “Turn around.”

Tsukishima did as ordered, propping himself up on his arms and knees in apprehension. Kuroo reentered his body, letting out a satisfied sigh when it slipped in easily, and began thrusting his hips once more.

Tsukishima grabbed onto the sheets around him and pressed his face on the pillow to stifle the loud cry that threatened to escape him.

“Does it hurt?”

“N-no. Keep going.”

“You like it harder?” Kuroo thrust his hips aggressively as he asked.

“Oh god,” Tsukishima panted. “Please... Tetsurou!”

“Fuck.” Kuroo’s movements were much quicker and rougher now, and even he started to let out lewd moans. He pulled Tsukishima towards his chest, biting and sucking the skin of his neck. The sensation electrified Tsukishima, who had long abandoned his restraint to scream.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he begged.

“I’m so close, Kei.”

“Tetsurou—“

With a jolt, Kuroo pulled himself out and discharged his cum on the palm of his trembling hand. He breathed heavily, slowly stroking his cock until every last ounce of his sticky mess left his system. Tsukishima watched it all happen and stared at the white pile of semen that Kuroo collected.

“That’s a lot, huh?” He said with a quirk of his lips, mimicking Kuroo’s remark.

Kuroo let out a sigh of relief before he returned to the bathroom to wash himself. Tsukishima retrieved his boxers from the floor, as well as his phone, and tucked himself cozily underneath the warm blanket.

When Kuroo came back, he carefully slid beside Tsukishima and enveloped him in a timid embrace. Tsukishima tucked his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, feeling his heart race at the tenderness of this moment.

For a while, the whole world seemed to melt away—and all that mattered was that he was finally in the arms of the man he once loved, then lost, then found again.

And as Kuroo caressed his hair and placed soft kisses on his forehead, he realized how wonderful and how fragile this all was.

“When do you leave?” Tsukishima asked.

Kuroo’s breath hitched and it was the only answer Tsukishima needed.

For a while, Kuroo was silent. Until he said, slowly, “You know, if you asked me to stay, I would.”

“You’d leave behind your life in Tokyo?” Tsukishima frowned. “Don’t be stupid.”

Kuroo cupped Tsukishima’s cheek. “Anything to be with you again.”

Tsukishima thought about how much he wanted it. How much he’d want to wake up to moments like this every day and be completely enveloped in Kuroo’s fierce love. To finally be within arm’s reach instead of a phone call away. It would have been perfect.

_And yet..._

Akiteru, having learned of his brother’s affair with the former Nekoma captain, asked him whether it was the distance that eventually tore them apart.

Akiteru then rephrased the question: if everything stayed the same except Kuroo just lived houses away, would it have been enough to change how it ended?

A relationship, he said, can always survive distance; all it needs is equal effort, equal trust, and equal loyalty between two people.

Tsukishima had always placed his faith blindly onto Kuroo, believing that Kuroo would always find a way, no matter what.

He knew better now than to burden him once again.

“We’ll work it out together,” Tsukishima said quietly.

After a long pause, Kuroo sighed. “Let me savor this moment then.”

It was 7:52 — the rays of the bright morning sun peaking slightly through the curtains — when Tsukishima finally said what his heart had always known.

“I love you.”

And for the first time since they’ve met, Tsukishima watched Kuroo cry.

Tsukishima awoke to the sound of a phone call. He sluggishly retrieved his mobile from under his pillow and opened one eye to check the caller ID. Cursing under his breath, he carefully slipped out the bed, put on his sweater, and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hello?” He croaked.

“Kei!” Akiteru yelled in urgency. “I’ve been trying to contact you all morning! Where are you?”

Tsukishima checked the time. It was a quarter to 11 — not enough sleep to think of a proper excuse.

“Even Tadashi-kun couldn’t reach you. He said you left early last night. Are you okay?” Akiteru was trying to calm himself, afraid to sound like an overbearing brother.

“I’m fine,” Tsukishima answered. “Don’t worry.”

“Where are you right now?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m with Kuroo.”

A pause.

And then, a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. And here, I was scared you went home with a complete stranger.”

“Nii-chan—!” Tsukishima pinched his forehead in embarrassment.

Akiteru laughed. “Well, I’ll leave you in peace for now. Work out whatever you two need to work out.”

“Right...”

“Text me when you’re on your way home.”

“Sure.”

Tsukishima let out a heavy sigh before heading back inside the room. He found Kuroo half-awake, his hand resting on the back of his head, and scrolling through his phone messages.

Tsukishima sat down on the corner of the bed and waited. With a yawn, Kuroo sat up, tousled his hair, and scooted closer to the blond.

“Who was that?” He said, gesturing to the phone.

“My brother. He just wanted to know where I was.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Did you tell him you’re...”

“Yeah. He was relieved. He thought I got kidnapped or went home with somebody.”

Kuroo let out a laugh. “I don’t think anyone will want to attempt to kidnap you.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

“Oh, cranky already?” Kuroo leaned close to rest his chin on Tsukishima’s shoulder. “Some things never change.”

Despite having had sex that night, Tsukishima felt his face heat up from the closeness.

Sensing this, Kuroo leaned back against the bed frame. “So, what now?”

“You’re checking out soon, aren’t you?”

Kuroo hummed. Tsukishima wondered if he had meant something else. “Yeah,” Kuroo said. “Shower?”

“You can go first.”

“Haha. I meant together.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened as his face flushed bright red. Timidly, he nodded and followed Kuroo towards the bathroom. Under the fluorescent light, Tsukishima felt more naked than he already was. Watching Kuroo fumble with the shower handle and curse at the cold water that touched his bare skin, he realized how pathetic he was for wasting all these years away apart. But in this close space, the hot steam damping the air and his ex-lover coyly pulling him in for a passionate kiss, Tsukishima decided that the wait had been worth it.

“Are you sure he’s okay with me coming?”

“How many times are you going to ask me this?”

“I just don’t want to overwhelm him.”

“He’ll be fine.”

After Kuroo checked out from his hotel, he and Tsukishima decided to give in to Akiteru’s demand for them to eat lunch at home. “Besides, it’s about time you introduced him to me properly, Kei,” he said. No objections were made.

For a while, Tsukishima was nervous to be seen with Kuroo by his former teammates in broad daylight on a Sunday—until he remembered that there was nothing to risk anymore.

“Ah, I should have bought something to give him!” Kuroo grimaced, smacking his forehead in distress.

“It’s fine, Tetsurou.”

“You’re not the one who’s worried about making a good impression, Kei.”

“Didn’t you already meet him?"

“That was years ago!”

“I can’t believe you’re more nervous about seeing my brother than seeing me yesterday,” Tsukishima huffed.

Kuroo laughed. “If only you knew.”

When they arrived at Tsukishima’s residence, Akiteru greeted them both warmly at the door. They ate their lunch with gusto, even with Akiteru sparing no time to question what they did that night. Kuroo answered it all with honesty, leaving out the part of what took place inside his hotel room, though Akiteru must have already known.

At one point, Akiteru asked if Tsukishima could leave him alone with Kuroo for a moment. Tsukishima eventually conceded when his icy glares failed to daunt his older brother and headed to his room, where he left the door cracked slightly open to overhear their conversation.

Akiteru asked mostly questions that Tsukishima hadn’t been brave enough to ask Kuroo that night. What had happened all those years ago, why it ended, what he’s done since, what he’s planning to do now. Kuroo answered it all with sincerity and tenacity that made Tsukishima’s heart ache.

He talked about how vastly different he and Tsukishima were and how their relationship survived on them meeting in the middle. Drifting apart shook the very foundation of their love, and yet neither of them are to blame—at least, in Kuroo’s eyes. They were young and naive. The worst part was that, no matter what they believed, they had always been second in each other’s hearts. They loved volleyball so much; how did they ever think they could compete with that?

Kuroo did not regret letting go. He knew that if he ever wanted to have another chance with Tsukishima in the future, no matter how long it would take, he’d gladly take that gamble and suffer years of loss and longing.

Not once did Tsukishima ever escape Kuroo’s mind—and this is what Tsukishima found the most odd.

Tsukishima had convinced himself, at a certain point in the past four years, that Kuroo had moved on. He would have found someone else, someone who would treat him better, someone who would cook him fried fish and curry after a tiring week at practice, someone who would actually go to his games and cheer him on from the bleachers, someone who would take him out on surprise adventures just the way he always wanted. Tsukishima never gave him that. Tsukishima was always miles away, worrying his head over his own problems, his own games, his own weekends. As the years went on, it started to make perfect sense why their relationship wouldn’t work no matter how long they stayed in it. Tsukishima couldn’t offer Kuroo anything that Kuroo wanted.

And yet Kuroo still chose him.

“Why is that?” Akiteru asked.

Kuroo only smiled. “Honestly...I don’t know. But with him, I feel like I’m home.”

 _Oh_. So this is what it feels. _This_ is how it’s supposed to be. _This_ is how it should be. Tsukishima slid to the floor, clenching his shirt over his overwhelmed heart, and let the tears he’s held finally roll down his face.

At the dining table, Akiteru returned Kuroo’s smile and patted his hand. “Don’t break his heart again.”

And Kuroo, raising his voice loud so Tsukishima could hear, answered, “I promise.”

The walk to the train station was quiet and painful, neither wanting this to end. They held each other’s hand tightly, afraid of the uncertainty that lay ahead of them the moment they’ll let go. None of them dared to speak, and Tsukishima’s head was once again filled with doubt and distress.

But Kuroo squeezed his hand reassuringly, as though reading his mind. “We’ll get through it together, right?”

Tsukishima nodded. “Right.”

Kuroo smiled and placed a chaste kiss on Tsukishima’s lips.

To his surprise, Tsukishima frowned. “That’s all you’re leaving me with?”

Kuroo looked around.

“There’s no one here.”

“Okay, okay.”

Kuroo pulled Tsukishima close and kissed him deeply, fervently, and desperately. And when he pulled away, he whispered, “I love you, Kei.”

“I love you too.”

It was 2:36 PM when Kuroo bid Tsukishima goodbye and disappeared beyond the turnstile. And though it ached to see him go right after he got him back to his life, Tsukishima found comfort in knowing that, this time, they will make it.

_\- EPILOGUE -_

Of course, everyone else had to find out at some point.

Yamaguchi, having caught wind of the news from Akiteru himself, kept texting his congratulations and well wishes to Tsukishima nonstop the whole afternoon.

It didn’t bother Tsukishima the slightest; Yamaguchi had always been there to support him, after all. But he was ill-prepared for the sudden influx of messages and notifications on his mobile phone soon after.

“What the hell?” he cursed under his breath, wondering why Yamaguchi would even tell the whole team that he was back together with Kuroo again.

But when he saw that his notifications were coming from a single post on Instagram, he realized Yamaguchi wasn’t to blame.

On his screen was a photograph Kuroo took of them at McDonald’s, faces visibly tired but happy, and captioned with a heart emoji.

Former Karasuno and Nekoma members, as well as old friends from other teams, flooded the comments. Bokuto, in particular, typed a long “YOOOOOOOOOOO!” and “I MADE THIS HAPPEN!” to which Kuroo replied with a cold, “You did nothing.”

Yamaguchi commented a dozen different heart emojis while Kenma typed a thumbs up. Tsukishima’s former seniors, Tanaka and Nishinoya, threatened Kuroo that they’ll beat him up if he ever hurt Tsukishima again.

Amid the chaos, Akaashi was the only one who asked simply, “So it’s official?” Tsukishima smiled to himself.

“Yup,” he typed before pressing enter, locking his phone, and placing it on his bedside table before he finally drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! My next project will be a sequel to "Waiting For Spring," my favorite KuroTsukki work. Please give it a read! :)


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